The Fallen Kingdoms
by pooja2992
Summary: The Kingdom of Krussia is split into two after a three-year war between the step-siblings for the throne of the largest kingdom in the world. The king of South Krussia fears that upon his death his half-brother in the North will conquer his kingdom and his family will be lost again to a war that may destroy everything left in the realm.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Where does that road take us?" the king commanded to his knight, Sir Richard Mount as he pulled the reins of his horse to make it halt. His entire party of thirty men including knights and the royal guards stopped. They stood in the middle of a crossroad in the dense forest of Baneswood as the king stared at the narrow, lonely road guarded by tall lush green trees on either side. The path was dark and gloomy with the end of the way nearly invisible to the sight.

Sir Richard straightened himself while he stopped his horse right next to the king. He stared at the woods, with a lost and a confused expression on his face, before he finally spoke. "The untaken road, your Grace. If we are not lost, then this road will take us to the Temple of Dionysia or so I have heard," sir Richard replied, humbly to his king.

The king continued to stare at the deepness of the empty road, allowing his thoughts to search his mind for what he knew of the Goddess Dionysia. Nothing struck him about the name, and yet it seemed familiar, known to him, but he could not place its origins.

"Nasty little place to linger, your Grace. It's best we stick to our destination than meddle with the unknown."

"I can't seem to recall where I have heard the name before. The temple of Dionysia. What do you know of this place, Mount?" the king strengthened his arms on the reins of his horse, trying to still the creature.

"Enough to never go there, your grace!"

"Speak plainly knight. I want to know what frightens you."

"It's a farmer's tale, your grace. Truth be spoken, I'm unsure of the origins myself. It all began during the reign of King Aiden of the old dynasty when he ruled a much larger kingdom than now. His kingdom was amidst war then, though I can't remember which war it was, or who fought in it, but I know it begins with war. On his way to the final battle, a servant of Dionysia crossed his path."

"Servants of Dionysia… the ones who practice mithridatism?"

Goddess Dionysia is the most powerful and oldest God known to the mankind. She is famous for her temper and blood thirst and, therefore, bears the renowned name; Goddess of blood and war. Kings would pray to her before heading for battles in a hope that she would help them win their wars. And upon their return, they would offer her the blood of their enemies. Even the common people began worshipping her in hopes of better life, some even started consuming poison bit by bit, proving to her that life means nothing to them and that they are her servants, willing to do anything for her. In return, the goddess protected them from death and granted them the sight to see the future. Lenard remembered this from a book he had read several years ago.

"Yes your grace, in fact, the roots of mithridatism are from this very forest, almost every leaf in these woods is venomous. What better place than this to turn your blood black."

"I believe it's forbidden now. King Gerard Delmer took care of that. He nearly killed all the practitioners, and the remaining few are lost with time."

"That's correct your grace!" the old knight was surprised by the king's knowledge. "As I was saying, the servant offered him a peek of the future. She swore to the king that he would win the war and in return, the king promised to build a temple for Dionysia."

"What happened then?"

"Just like the prediction, your grace. Aiden had won the war," his words were loud and clear. "And like a good king, he was true to his word. Many of his council members and lords begged him otherwise. Priests opposed to his decision, but a king must do what he promises. It's expected of him, so he built a temple so huge and magnificent that the world had never seen. Nearly ten thousand workers were employed in the construction of the house which included gardens, water pools and even quarters for priests. Nothing was ever constructed like it," the knight paused.

Lenard tried to imagine what it had been like, so many years ago, his thoughts drifted to a different time. His fascination with the story grew further, and he got deeply engrossed in the tale.

"It was believed then that every wish was granted if you visited her, so visitors poured in from different kingdoms to pray to her. The kingdom prospered but only for a few decades."

"You mean the kingdom decayed."

"Oh yes, my king. A candle cannot enlighten you forever. Every glory must end sooner or later, that's how the Gods teach us to remember them. King Rowan Denton, the last king of the old dynasty, visited this temple before the battle of the Crossing. He like every other king desired to win the battle, so he went here to pray to Dionysia." He paused "He rode with 350 men including his son to the temple and camped near the archway. At eve, he alone went inside the temple. He was gone until morning, and with the first light of dusk, he charged out running, sword in his hand, furious, cursing even and commanded his men to burn the temple to the ground."

"But why? What happened inside?" the king was curious, hungry for more of the story.

"No one knows what happened inside. King Rowan never spoke of it. Whenever he was confronted, his rage would engulf him, sometimes even killing the man who asked him. His silence gave rise to stories, myths, and even legends. He lost the war eventually, and so lost the kingdom. He ruined his rule and his dynasty burnt to ashes. Obviously, the Goddess cursed him."

"And you believe that?" the king smirked at the knight disbelieving his assumption.

"My beliefs hold no value here, your grace. This happened over five hundred years ago, and none of us were there to see it. We depend on stories and legends written and sung by common folk."

"Then there is only one way to find out."

"Your grace?" Sir Richard grew a confused expression on his face. Somewhere in his mind, he knew where the conversation was heading, and he didn't want to hear the end of it.

"How far do you think is the place from here?"

Richard hesitated, but he eventually gave in, "at the end of the road. There is an archway that marks the entrance."

"Excellent news. I wish to go and pray there, for the kingdom and for my friend. It's any way dawning, we shall camp the night there."

Richard was surprised by the change of plans, he knew it was coming the moment the king started asking questions, and now there is no going back to it. It was his duty to obey and protect the king till the end of his life and this he must fulfill no matter what.

The party entered the unexplored road, it was much darker and cold, the trees seemed, even more, taller as they marched in. The only sound that was heard was of horses sauntering into the woods.

"We are nearing," Lord Richard said as the forest thinned out around them. The dark blue sky with hints of crimson and orange was nearly visible from the branches above as they shadowed their way. "The archway is visible now."

The archway grew bigger and bigger as their distance reduced. It was a stony structure with broken stairs at the bottom leading to the temple. Creepers and vines had already crawled its way up to the arch and were now hanging. Lavenders had sprouted on the foots of the arc and the steps with short shrubs growing everywhere.

"Let's stop here. We shall go by foot hence," Lenard looked at Richard as he pulled the reign of his horse. His company halted right behind him. "You seem to have lost words."

"You have chosen a dangerous adventure, my king. But I'm your shield. I shall walk at your side even if it were the hell you were going through."

Lenard got off his horse and removed his riding gloves. His steward Oliver Rowntree hurried by his side to take away his gloves and his riding cloak.

"Tell everyone that we shall camp here," Lenard told him and gave his horse away. He then looked at Richard and said, "It is no adventure if it is not dangerous. Besides, I'm going in alone. We all pray alone. I hope you understand that."

"But my king, I'm sworn to protect you. This is my duty."

"Yes, but I wish to go alone. So you shall wait here."

Lenard looked at his old friend, there was a genuine worry in his eyes, something he had never seen in all these years. Sir Richard had never feared, and yet today fear is all that was left in him.

The camp had already been set, and someone had started a fire among the Kings household. His steward had begun roasting three rabbits they had caught early morning.

Richard stared into his eyes, unsure of what to say. He knew now that all his efforts to stop him from the inevitable were going to be wasted he merely said, "As you wish, your Grace. But at least, let us part at the door. Let me accompany till the top."

"Then come now. I must go in at once," Richard and Lenard now stood under the archway.

The steps to the temple were steep and edged out, and most of them were broken. The temple was located on an elevated land and was surrounded by tree and bushes.

"Will you not eat, your grace?" The knight asked.

"No, I have lost my appetite. I will only eat now upon my return." And he began his climb.

Richard followed him silently, looking around at the place. It was ruined and yet breathtaking. The lush greenery and the fallen leaves shimmering under the thin streams of dim evening light that passed through the surrounding tall trees made him wonder if this place was really cursed.

"Tell me, Sir Richard. What do you think I shall find inside the temple?" he questioned Richard trying to break the silence.

Richard took a deep breath, the steps seemed to not end at all. The temple had not appeared a step closer since their climb.

"There is a rumor, I'm not sure if you have heard of it. They say that the servants of the Goddess still dwell inside and if you encounter one, you may be lucky enough to see your future. Well, some say that the Goddess herself will appear to you and show you the future. It's a little hard to believe that, but then it's only a belief," he spoke. "Very few have entered the temple, and even fewer spoke of what they saw inside."

"The Goddess herself, that's a first I have heard," and the king laughed heartily at the silliness of the small folk. "What other stories have you heard?"

"I read this one in a book. It says that the temple is still burning on the inside. The fire depicts the rage of Dionysia on all mankind. And amidst the flames of fire, the visitor shall see his death. It's more like the visitor is securing his death sentence upon entering the temple."

"Which is why you are urging me to change my plans. I'm surprised that you believe in all this Lord Richard Mount."

Richard ignored the tease. He looked up. The temple had grown closer; they were almost nearing the base.

"I met a traveler once in the capital. We shared supper and wine, and he was too drunk when he said that he was returning from the Temple of Dionysia. I didn't believe him then until now, for now, I see what he saw then," he paused, catching his breath from the climb.

"Go on."

"I asked him his purpose for the visit. He said he was on his way to the capital when he got lost in the woods. So searching for the right path he found the ruins of the temple, unaware of what truly lies inside it, he entered the temple, and he was stunned by what he saw inside."

"What did he see?" Lenard asked impatiently.

"He saw the largest statuette of Dionysia he had ever seen in his life. She was holding a mirror in her arms. When he walked towards the mirror, he could see his reflection growing closer, and as he reached the at the foot of the mirror, he saw his destiny. He saw his death."

"Don't believe the words of a drunk," the king smirked at him as they climbed the final step. "That's a lot of steps," he said looking back, trying to locate the beginnings of the steps, but he could see none. They were higher than most of the trees.

The upper atmosphere had turned dark purple with spatters of red on it. One of the moons had already begun to show itself from a distance, subtle and crescent yet to gain full size.

As his eyes lay upon what sat in front of him, Lenard was in awe to see a magnificent yet ruined temple of Goddess Dionysia. Lenard was a religious man; he had nearly visited most of the known temples in his kingdom, but this temple was bigger than any he had ever seen.

This may be the only temple he may see before dies if his friend is telling the truth, he thought.

There was no door at the entrance, only a small inlet, that was covered with creepers and roots of nearby trees and plants. The once white wall of the temple had turned gray and green from the dust and rain, and some part of the wall had been chipped. There were huge cracks and holes on the lower right of the temple proving the fact the temple had been attacked once. The only two windows were covered by curtains of vine that had grown till the roof of the temple.

"I think, this I where we part," Richard looked at his King. "I only hope you know what you are doing."

Lenard laughed. And the two moved in opposite directions.

Lenard moved towards the temple, and then under the doorway. The temple inside was even more significant than it was visible from outside. It was dirty and muddy with a large pool of water in the center. White Waterlilies and lavender lotuses had sprouted with several other wild plants and shrubs around it.

At the end of the large pool was the statuette of Dionysia made of gray stone nearly twenty feet tall sitting on a chair made of a tree that shot through the roof. The stone had chipped at several places, and there were cracks at her feet and her left hand. On her right hand was a staff made of black wood with blue orchids crawling over it.

Years ago when the temple was built, the priests had embedded the staff with a radiant blue stone that was found nearby. Later it came to be known as the mirror of Dionysia. During king Rowan's attack, the stone was lost and later believed to be stolen by him. No one in present times knew the whereabouts of the rock.

Her left arm rested on the armrest created by the roots of the tree. She crowned herself with horns made of woods and leaves from the hanging roots of the tree and stared right into Lenard's eye.

Lenard walked closer to the feet of the Goddess taking a route away from the water pool amidst the house. As he moved closer, he saw a rare flower climbing on the walls of the room. They resembled orchids and were deep red in color. They were spread across the wall behind the statuette.

Immediately Lenard recognized the flowers, they were blood orchids. At first, Lenard couldn't believe his eyes. Of what he knew, blood orchids no longer existed. He had read about them when he was younger. Blood orchids carried the most dangerous poison in their stem. Even a drop of its essence would kill a man immediately.

He went closer to confirm his findings but maintained a distance from the plant in fear of being poisoned. The sweet fragrance of the flowers enthralled him.

His eyelids grew heavy and his breath fastened. He sat on the nearby rock near the water lilies to gain his strength. The sun had already set, and the only light streaming through the broken roof was of the two moons that shown brightly, one full and the other crescent.

"Fascinating isn't it!"

He rose from his place, looking up, his eyes searching everywhere for the voice he just heard. At a distance from underneath the stairs, he saw, a figure hiding in silhouette, a woman, wearing a black plain dress.

"Show yourself, women. I command you!" Lenard spoke, his voice echoing in the hollow emptiness. He quickly placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"There is no need to shout, KING LENARD ARDOYNE," she emphasized on his name and emerged from the shadows.

As the moon lit her face, Lenard realized how young she was, only sixteen or seventeen he thought. Her features were dull, but it was her eyes that caught his attention. They were beautiful, the most profound blue of the ocean that glimmered at night.

"You know who I am?" Lenard asked, staring at the girl, puzzled by her knowledge.

"That's not all I know about you."

"Who are you?"

"I am only a servant of the Goddess. And I know why you have come here."

"How?"

"They all come here for the same reason. All men," she paused "I'm surprised even a king doubts his future."

"I have my reasons -"

"And I know it all."

"So now that you know it. Will you tell me my fate? Will you tell me the future of kingdom?"

"your kingdom's future or your future?" she gave him a sly smile, letting him know that she knows his greed.

He paused for a while, staring at her angrily, thinking of what she knows. He then hurriedly said "both. I want to know it all."

"Then you shall know it all," she said. She walked towards him, pulled out the dagger from his waist and cut his thumb. She then walked toward the water pool and threw in a drop of blood. Lenard stood by her as she performed the act.

"Ask what you seek, my king," her words louder and sharper this time.

He wondered for a time, looking into the pool but asked anyway, "What becomes of my kingdom?"

She looked into the pool, red it had turned, red by the blood of the fortune seeker. Her eyes locked into it as she spoke slowly, "Your kingdom shall decay with time. Death will plague it, and from the ashes of its defeat, a new kingdom will be born with power the world has never seen."

"My kingdom! Will I rule this new kingdom; you see?"

"No. But your son will rule in your stead, for one king must fall for another to rise. He shall be feared by his foes but loved by his subjects. He shall be the king of kings."

He stared at the water and saw nothing, the words took time to sink in him, but he held himself.

"If this is true, then I shall be dead!"

"We all die, sooner or later. But yours is sooner than you expect, by the ones you unhoped, betrayed by your own blood."

He stood there shocked by what she just told him. His ears could not believe her words. He immediately drew his sword out and pointed at her, the tip touching her neck slightly. "You shall die now for this, women." His words echoed into the emptiness of the room.

"Killing me will not change the truth, KING! Killing me will not stop the inevitable."

"But killing you shall bring me peace. Witch!" he slowly dug the sword inside her throat. She tried to scream but choked as the blade pierced her. Blood oozed out of the cut and dripped through her neck, flowing down her body to the pool. Her eyes stared at Lenard as she fell into the bloody pool, blood spattered everywhere.

"Do give my regards to death. Oh! And don't forget to mention to him that I'm the king of Krussia, and even death shall have to wait for me."

Lenard slowly opened his eyes. It was morning, the sun was streaming through the open roof. Everything initially was bright, he couldn't open his eyes to focus on anything. His head was blasting with unbearable pain. The ground below him was soft and wet, even muddy.

He sat upright, his hand clenching his head. Where am I? He wondered. Beside him was the pool of water sprouted with lotuses and lilies. He looked ahead and saw Goddess Dionysia and everything rushed back to him. He immediately looked at the pool, and it was crystal clear water. He then checked his thumb to see the cut, but his skin was intact.

His hand immediately ran on the hilt of his sword as he pulled it from the leather scabbard and checked the blade only to find it clean. He lifted himself from the ground, sweating.

He wasn't sure what had happened, everything that he saw at night was real, and yet nothing seemed real now. Everything around him seemed like before, nothing had changed from the time he entered and yet somehow everything looks different.

He didn't know what to believe anymore. Was it a dream or a prophecy? Was that girl real or all of this just imagination. He wondered as fear crawled through his skin. His thoughts went astray, comprehending the events. He couldn't draw a conclusion.


	2. Chapter 2

A continuation of The Forgotten Kingdom.

I look forward to hearing from you all so please review!

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Chapter 2

Dawn and dusk were the same in the kingdom of Pyros. It rained there and stormed there but the sun never shone there because it was surrounded by a ferocious ring of volcanoes that were active a long time but had grown dormant in the last four hundred years. At least most of them appeared to. The air enclosing the country was thick and humid and thinly polluted from the old eruptions of the mountains but at least now it was breathable.

Centuries ago when the kingdom was inhabitable, men feared the great black mountains of Pyros that spurted fire and ash. No one dared to enter the shadow lands that were under the protection of the dust, smog and heat. The air was moist warm and suffocating that choked anyone who entered the land lock. Such was the the beginning of this kingdom, until one day the mountains finally found peace and decided to slumber.

Eleanor Schadow looked out of the window and examined the dull gray weather with a hint of mist rolling down the forest. She inhaled the cold, damp wind that flushed her face as she recognized that dawn had broken. For an outsider, it would be difficult to regard the difference, but for a Pyrosi, it was instinct and Eleanor wasn't an ordinary girl. She was the crown princess of Pyros - burdened with the responsibilities of the throne, should the time come. And the occasion for her to ascend the throne was upon her, which terrified her more than ever.

Eleanor Schadow was born on the brightest day of the year, sixteen years ago. Her mother named her after the star that illuminated radiantly that night, a rare sight in Pyros. Only a few places in the kingdom were blessed with clear skies for at least a day in the year, mostly the southern part where the volcanic mountains vanished and Pyros lunged into the Black Sea.

The pleasant morning breeze brushed through her dark raven hair as she sulked in the cold. She was leaning on the edge of the low window etched with black stones that were used to put together the Ash palace almost four hundred years ago when her ancestors first came to Pyros. Her eyes foraged the vista in front of her reflecting her restless, anxious and impatient wait for the consequences of her carefully laid plans. Her mind was vigilant and troubled at the same time for the night before her was unquiet and sleepless as she toiled in the memories of her dying mother.

"This is much better," she exclaimed at Lord Roland Taryn who she knew wasn't far behind her.

She still lingered in her white night gown enclosed under a dark green silk robe with loose curled black hair that hung till her waist. Her skin was pale and flawless – a mark of the true Pyrosi, but her features were nothing but ordinary unlike the ancestry of the Schadow woman who were born with remarkable beauty.

"Careful now princess," he warned her. "Let's prevent wrong ears from hearing those words."

Lord Roland Taryn, a middle-aged man with faint streaks of white hair had been in the queen's service for a good fifteen years as her personal guard. He had never left his queen's side in the past years and today too he had no intention to do so in Her Majesty's last hour.

"It's too late now Roland." She turned around and faced the chamber that she stood in. "Nature has taken its course, nothing can be undone now."

The room was dark with a suffocating breathe that reeked of sweat and herbs and death. It was poorly lit with candles placed only in the corners of the room and one beside the royal bed in which lay the Queen of Pyros under white sheets stained with blood.

Helewyse Schadow was counting her last breath as her eyes stared into the emptiness of the ceiling of her chamber. The pinks of her cheeks had faded away and her once red lips had turned icy white with her neck blotched with black patches marking the evidence of black fever. She was once the strongest woman of her country, a born warrior only to be defeated on the field by the enemies but today she lay silent, mumbling constantly under her breath. No one had imagined her reign to succumb to a disease.

In the four corners of the room, small bowls filled with a mixture of herbs burned, emitting thin strips of smoke to rid the room of any infections. But still, the space itched with an odor that burned Eleanor's nostrils.

"It stinks, worse than I had imagined," she expressed her discomfort.

"It is supposed to you," Roland reminded her.

"How long will this go on?" Eleanor had grown tired of the long and vexing wait.

"I'm surprised that she has come this far," he whispered making sure that the healer in the room didn't hear his words. His suspicious black eyes rolled on the only outsider in the room, making sure that his words are inaudible to the wrong ears.

"Even in her dying hour she is teasing me," Eleanor was annoyed. She carefully moved towards her mother's bed, trying to maintain a reasonable distance as she scrutinized the once beautiful woman that lay before her.

The healer continuously concocted disgusting dark green paste of plants and gave it to the queen but Eleanor knew that it was a wasted effort. Nothing in the world can now save her mother from death. It was the bitter truth, the one she had come to accommodate the moment Helewyse fell ill.

Eleanor caressed her mother's hand, gently around the loose dark skin with wrinkles. "Mother," she was unsure how much the queen heard or understood. But she wanted to speak because this would be the only chance she would ever have. "I loved you once. A lot. But you chose another even though you knew that the throne was my destiny. It belonged to me from the time I was born. That is the fate of our dynasty," she paused looking graciously at her mother's thoughtful black watery eyes. "I wish that we had parted under better circumstances." She faked a smile and gave way to the healer who rushed beside Helewyse with a small vial of a stinky draught that he had freshly brewed, trying to pour it into his queen's mouth. Without the strength to push away the mixture, Helewyse had no option but to swallow it, letting some of it drip from the corner of her mouth. Even gulping it down her throat was a pain she couldn't endure. She had weakened like a newborn child.

"Where is my son? Where is Doran?" Helewyse spoke, a whisper, barely audible. "I must see him, bring him to me." She choked on the dark green liquid.

"It will always be him," Eleanor sighed and released the queen's hand and let it fall on the bed.

"The prince is gone, your majesty," Roland said as he took his place beside the dying queen.

Even in her death, Helewyse struggled to speak her dead son Doran's name. She had forgotten the living and breathing who stood beside her.

Doran was Eleanor's older brother and the heir to the throne of Pyros, but he died five years ago. After six generations of queens, he would have been the first king. The kingdom had rejoiced upon his birth; he had lit up a beacon of hope in a parched country. But his death came like a foretold curse, unexplained but expected and all was lost. Helewyse mourned her golden boy for a year, she isolated herself from the court and the public and all her responsibilities fell on her Lord husband who took in charge during her absence.

"Gone? Where to? Wherever he is, he will come to me on my summons." Her voice was feeble but demanding.

"Doran is dead, mother," Eleanor's words were a harsh reminded which were intended to torment the queen.

Doran had to die. Eleanor knew of his fate and so did the entire kingdom of Pyros. It was written in the sky and in the stars, that he shall never be a king. He was cursed or so they said. He was cursed like every other man of this family; no male would inherit the Pyros throne.

Nearly two hundred years ago, princess Arana killed her seven older brothers to become the first queen of Pyros. Since then no man lived to sit on the throne of Pyros for the past six generations. Upon Helewyse's death, Eleanor would become the seventh queen of Pyros. Apparently, Arana set a curse on the throne, only a queen could rule Pyros, no man could remotely even be alive of the same generation to seize the throne.

"You don't have to be so heartless, Eleanor," Roland complained. "She is dying."

"I'm simply conveying the truth," she walked back to the window gaping again at the dull the picturesque in front of her. "You and I both know that Doran would never have been the king."

"That's not true," Roland confessed. "He was the first boy to be born in six generations. He was special Eleanor. And if that unfortunate accident didn't happen, he would have been alive, standing amidst us."

"If he were alive," Eleanor highlighted the cruel condition.

"I don't believe in the curse," Roland revealed.

"Then you're a fool, Roland. The entire kingdom knows that a prince shall never be a king in our kingdom." She dismissed his thoughts. "Such is the custom set by my ancestor Arana."

"If you believe in the curse, then you must know what follows," he mocked her but Eleanor was patient. She knew this game better than him and she was prepared to face the consequences of its outcome.

"I know it well enough. And I'm willing to fight whatever it offers," she admitted without fear.

Roland looked down and threw a half smile. In the background Helewyse moaned and cursed in pain, crying and mumbling under her breath but the only person to tend to her was the healer.

"If I were to die," Eleanor acknowledged after looking at her mother's struggle. "I would prefer a cleaner and an honorable death. Maybe in a battle field with a sword in my hand. Not like this," she turned her head to face her mother. "This death will not be remembered."

"A warrior's death." Roland gestured.

She went back to staring at the forest on the foots of the castle. Her mother's room was on the highest tower that overlooked the gloomy and deceiving forest of Pyros. She anxiously spied the edges when she heard the rumble of the trees and branches followed by the galloping of the horses.

"At last she is here," Eleanor pointed at she saw five riders come out of the forest and head straight for the stables.

Roland was suspicious of the implication but took a wild guess, "Raya?"

"Who else?" Eleanor didn't stir. "She was hunting the whole night."

"Such behavior doesn't suite her status. The people will not take kindly to her actions," Roland enlightened Eleanor of her sister's absurd attitude.

"I don't care about the reputation of Raya. She will be her own doing and as for the people of my kingdom," she turned around and faced Roland now. "They are very accepting. That's why we haven't seen a civil outbreak in centuries. History has taught me much Lord Taryn. If the Pyrosi's were warriors my dynasty would have been dust by now, remembered only in songs and tales."

"You are not Queen Arana," Roland spoke announcing that he knew the Pyrosi history like his princess.

"No, I'm not. She was cruel and vicious and most of all feared. They even say that she bathed in the blood of young virgin girls to maintain her beauty," Eleanor fell silent. "And yet she is the most remembered monarch in our history."

"That she is, your royal highness," Roland confirmed.

There was a loud bang on the door as its access opened and into the room entered princess Raya Schadow in her riding cloak and gloves with shoes that were heel deep in wet mud. She paraded in with a high head and instantly locked her eyes with the crown princess.

"Sister," she nodded. "I hope I'm not late."

"Your highness," Roland greeted her.

"Lord Taryn," she acknowledged him and walked ahead.

With raven black hair like Eleanor, Raya bore very little resemblance to her older sister. In complexion both the sisters were pale without a doubt but that was the Pyrosi color. Raya however was taller than her sister and with prominent sharp features including high cheek bones. If in Pyros there was an incomparable beauty it was most definitely Raya and this on certain occasions bothered Eleanor.

"Your hunting activities can wait a little longer. There are more important matters that require your attention," Eleanor alerted her young sister of her duties that preceded over her leisure but even she knew that all those words were a waste.

"Not go out on a full moon night? You have surely lost your sanity Eleanor. If you knew me at all you wouldn't have said that," Raya pulled out her riding gloves and threw it on the closest chair and slumbered closer towards the bed.

"Leave us," Eleanor's voice gravely instructed Roland and the healer. They were stunned by the untimely manner of the princess but they didn't hesitate and quickly withdrew their presence, shutting the door behind them after departure.

When Eleanor was alone with her sister, she knew now that she could speak freely with her without prying ears.

"You should have been here sooner," Eleanor wasn't pleased with her sister's attitude. But then again, this has always been Raya's way – careless, stubborn and selfish.

"If I knew our mother was going to die today, I would have stayed the night with you," Raya said without any compassion.

"Our mother has been dying for a few days now," Eleanor whispered patiently.

"Yes. But this is the closest to death she will ever be," Raya argued.

"Speak to her before it's too late," Eleanor commanded her. "This is the only chance you have."

"I have said enough to her for one lifetime, I have nothing more to add," she said as she took the corner of the bed and stared extensively at her dying queen. Helewyse's hand twitched as she saw Raya in front of her, her eyes gleaming with a small pool of tears resting in them.

"Oh Mother!" Raya exhaled. "If only you had been better to us, things would have been so different for you in the end. Instead, here we are with almost no pity for you even in your dying hour." She took her mother's trembling hand.

"Raya!" Helewyse hissed as she tightened the clasp around her daughter's hand. "Raya," she called again struggling to speak but the princess made no effort into approaching her mother.

Eleanor on the other hand stood quietly in the corner scrutinizing the act that unfolded in front of her. She too could hear the soft words of her mother craving for Raya's attention but she did nothing. She just watched the ways of her cold and brutal sister.

Eleanor never blamed her sister for her careless attitude towards their mother. In some ways she was just like Raya, unsympathetic towards the queen who very well deserved it. Both the princesses were neglected by Helewyse while she showered her love and affection on Doran who was the center of her world.

"My dear, please," the queen begged for her younger daughter's attention but Raya sat still pinning her eyes at her mother's turmoil. Her hand shivered violently now almost giving chills to Raya but the princess didn't reflect her fear. She had seen enough death for a girl of her age to be startled by another even if it was her mother's.

"She's gone," Raya quietly whispered to her sister without unlocking her gaze from her mother.

Eleanor wasn't surprised. She was expecting this moment to come by because this would mean that now she is the queen of Pyros. She simply walked towards the corpse of her mother and closed her cold dead eyes.

"I must congratulate you sister, now that you have achieved what you have always wanted," Raya slid her hand from her mother's rigid grasp and rose up to bow to the new monarch.

"It was mine from the day I was born. I did nothing to achieve it," Eleanor gleamed in her accomplishment.

"Don't play this game with me Ela. I know what you have done. And I do not mind it. But I would hate to think that you of all the people would underestimate me." Eleanor was shocked by Raya's words but she didn't let her emotions take over her.

"It's too late for that now. I have won the game," she took her sister's hand and folded it between hers. "I don't wish to squabble with you Raya. You're the only one I have who is of my blood. And now you are the heir apparent to the throne. We must be ally's – you and I."

A sly smile appeared on Raya's face as she withdrew her hand, "What do you want Eleanor? Speak plainly."

"You mind your own business and I mind mine." It wasn't a proposal, it was an order by the new queen.

"Fine," Raya didn't hesitate a bit. She immediately accepted the terms and opened the door so that others could come in.

Eleanor quickly paced after to declare the unfortunate news. She stood at the access of the chambers where a small crowd of lords and ladies gathered.

"I must announce that Queen Helewyse Schadow has passed away," Eleanor pretended to be broken but on the inside, she felt nothing. "She is with the Gods now."

The moment Eleanor was done talking the entire population that stood in front of her immediately bend their knees to their new young queen with their heads hanging as low as possible. An expected gesture proclaiming support for the new monarch.

"Lord Taryn. Accompany me. Much needs to be done." It was a royal command which Roland followed instantly.

Once in Eleanor's solar he personally wished his new Queen. "Many congratulations, your majesty! May your reign be long and successful." He gently bowed to her.

"Thank you Roland. It wouldn't have come to pass if it weren't for your support," she thanked him in return.

"You are too kind, Eleanor," he stood tall in his deep maroon tunic, the royal color of Pyros.

Eleanor ignored his words and walked behind the table and scanned the multiple unopened letters and other documents that were scattered on the desk. It was Helewyse's work but ever since she took ill, the burden was bestowed upon the heir of the throne.

"We have a lot to do now Roland," Eleanor said.

"Indeed, we do."

"Starting with, what are we going to do about Raya?" Eleanor was impatient with her words as her eyes wandered restlessly in anticipation.

"I don't understand you," Roland didn't like the way she spoke about her sister. He could smell something wrong.

"She knows," Eleanor said and took the chair behind the table and gracefully placed her arms on the rest.

"That's impossible," Roland dismissed the idea as quickly as possible.

"She told me herself," Eleanor confirmed the news. "If this got out, it would weaken my position as the queen of this realm. And who knows the council itself would vouch for Raya, installing her as the new queen."

Lord Taryn was dumb struck. It was almost impossible for him to breath as he comprehended the threat. If the news of his treason to the crown got out in the public he would be executed and his family shunned from the world with the mark of a traitor. Now he was afraid.

"Send her away," he quickly jumped to a decision.

"If only it were that easy," she professed as she broke the wax seal on one of the letters on the table. "We have to be careful from now on. Until we have a solution to our problem."

Roland thoughtfully agreed. He knew that indirectly a solution to princess Raya was expected of him even if Eleanor didn't put it in plain words.

"To the next issue then," she got busy reading the letter. "How are the arrangements for my mother's funeral going on?"

"Splendid. As per your order the largest funeral pyre in the history of Pyros has been arranged. We have also made a provision for the common people to view the burning. This will not be a private affair."

"That's good then. I want my people to know how much I loved my mother," she paused. "What about the other matter? Did you get what I asked?"

"Yes. That too has been taken care of delicately, Your Majesty."

"Good. Who's is it?" Eleanor was curious as she carefully eyed Roland.

"A young maiden of no significant birth. Her family offered her as soon as we threw gold at their feet," he explained.

Eleanor smiled in relief. She was pleased that everything was in accordance to her plans which brought a sense of accomplishment to her. "I think that will be all Roland. We will discuss my coronation later."

"Your Majesty," Roland took a deep bow. "I will have ladies sent in." And he left the chamber to complete his given tasks.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Ariana walked slowly down the stairs towards the king's council room. Her hand was holding the candlestick high to enlighten the hallway as she plodded on the stoney yet leveled floor. She was awoken by one of the king's guard while she was sound asleep in her chambers. It was still dark when the guard softly knocked her door and requested her presence immediately. She quickly wrapped herself with a nightgown and fastened its belt and banged the door shut as she left her confinement.

The king had never summoned her at such an hour with such urgency. He would rarely stay up at such a time unless he was busy plotting to kill his enemies with his council members or sharing wine and some old hunt catches of his youth with his lords.

She inquired of the guard about the concern, but he simply refused to be knowledgeable on the matter. Ariana worried herself, her thoughts strayed over all the situations that were possible for such an untimely queer meet.

Ariana married the king of South Krussia almost twenty years ago, and in these twenty years, nothing in the capital made her happy. She was born in the ruling family of Pyros; she was the princess of Pyros and younger sister to Heleywse Schadow. She wasn't expected to inherit the throne with her sister in the line first, so her mother decided that she shall be the queen of South Krussia. She wanted both her daughters to be rulers, but what her mother failed to understand was that there is a difference in ascending the throne as a queen and marrying a king and becoming a queen. Now Ariana was simply a prisoner to her title and consort in name only. Her sister, on the other hand, was the real queen.

To the king, the marriage was at the behest of his kingmaker. He thought that a marriage with one of the wealthiest family in the continent would benefit the empire with fortune and would help strengthen the military aspect of the country.

So, their marriage was only successful in the eyes of the world. In reality, they had been strangers for a time unknown to both of them. Ariana tried to find solace in the various diversions of the capital, but nothing suited her. The food, the city, the people, the culture were all foreign to her when she came and remained foreign ever since.

The only thing that truly belonged to her in this realm were her four beautiful children who she loved more than anything in the world. But someday her children would be married, and on that day, they would become someone else's, leaving her alone for good.

Dawn had broken in the capital with the sky shimmering in hues of crimson and burnt orange. The sun was trying to peep through the distant hills that shadowed behind the swollen river flowing under the castle. The horizon had yet to consume the two moons that slightly faded into the paleness of the sky.

The Ceridian palace or commonly called the white palace because of the white marble that bricked through the walls was still asleep. Ariana paced slowly through the long corridors that overlooked the falling river into the abyss. When she had first seen the palace from a distance, she was terrified. Her mind was completely shadowed by the fact that the stoney bridge that supported the palace would collapse from the force of the river and the palace would crumble into the bottomless waterfall. But with time she had grown used to the scenario and her fear lessened.

The guard that had woken her quietly followed her through the rumbling noise of the river. A cold morning breeze swept through the castle that carried a faint scent of the flowers from the garden that followed the end of the corridor.

Ariana had never entered the garden in her twenty years and wouldn't yet in her coming twenty years. For it was a reminder of the love between her husband – the king and his first wife. The king had loved her, or maybe he still does, that's what she believed. Ariana distinctly remembered their wedding night when her husband – Lenard told her about this first wife. He told Ariana that whatever would be between them was for the sake of his people and his kingdom; she would never take the place of his dead first wife. And those words haunted Ariana even today.

At first, Ariana thought that with time he would forget his first wife – Skylar and acknowledge her, but she was wrong. He only grew more and more inclined to her that he even built a garden in her name with Skylar's statue amidst it. "There is nothing quite like it," she heard one of the maid's mumble about Skylar's garden. Ariana was furious by the talk and dismissed the maid instantly sending a fair warning to her household.

While Ariana had chosen her chambers in the east tower of the palace that was firmly grounded to the earth and as far away from Skylar's garden as possible, her husband – Lenard preferred the vista of the river and had chosen the water tower for his court and council. He had arranged his rooms in such a way that each chamber overlooked Skylar's garden so that he could enjoy the memory of his only true wife.

When Ariana finally reached the council chamber, her loitering mind came back to reality with a hint of worry. Ariana was tall and lean with coal black hair and pale tanned skin that was once chalky when she had just arrived from Pyros. The sun in Ceridian had done its work and had given Ariana a better complexion that enhanced her light brown eyes with dark brows and heavy eyelashes. She had a pointed jawline with full lips and in her youth, was considered a true beauty. But now her skin had aged and loosened with light wrinkles that appeared when she laughed.

Two guards stood on either side of the king's room, one of them immediately opened the door and let Ariana in. Inside, the room was poorly lit with only three candles burning on the large elongated center table where the kings for ages had made strategies to defeat their enemies for years. Maps with regional boundaries were scattered across the table, with opened letters from different kingdoms, wax and seals and four used goblets sat on the table in front of the respective chairs.

The king sat at the end of the table, with a wine goblet in hand as he patiently looked up to his queen. He had streaks of white hair in his beard and shoulder length hair that had seen him young and masculine in his late twenties. But now Lenard was old and flabby with a healthy body.

Ariana lifted her robes and gracefully sat on the chair at the table opposite her husband. Her fear and curiosity hid under a stern expression on her face.

"Wine?" Lenard asked her.

"You know it's too early for me Lenard. I haven't woken up at dawn to drink with you," her words expressed a sense of concern even the king couldn't deny.

"No, you haven't." Lenard rose from his chair, took a fresh goblet from the table and placed in front of Ariana. He then took the wine jug and poured the glass full.

"Drink!" he commanded her. He knew that she needed her strength to hear what follows.

Ariana glared at him, comprehending his motives but she couldn't make much of it, so she obeyed and drank the wine. After a big sip, she placed the glass back on the table and relaxed on the chair, expecting the reason for her early summon. "Now you must break the silence."

"The news I bear is the most grievous," Lenard was gentle, but he knew that there was no easy way in delivering such news. "Your sister," he began, still struggling to find words. "Helewyse is dead."

Ariana sat still, her eyes staring darkly into her king husband's face as she tried to understand the words that fell out of his mouth. Her eyes glistened, shinning with the pool of tears that immediately emerged to display her shock and grief.

"Helewyse?" she stammered to speak. "How do you know?"

"A rider in the morning," Lenard held out a small square letter with the broken seal of the royal castle of Pyros. "I'm so sorry, Ariana."

"But how?" her voice was barely audible.

"It was black fever, she was suffering from it for some time," Lenard said.

"There must be a mistake. This cannot be true." Ariana rose from her chair and walked to Lenard. She put forward her hand for the letter clasped in the hands of the king.

"It is written by your niece Eleanor; it bears the royal seal," He told her and gave her the letter, allowing her to agree to the unfortunate event that struck them with such surprise.

"My sister was ill, and I had no knowledge of it. That is strange. Black fever takes its course slowly and painfully. And yet no one informed me." Moisture trickled down her fair cheeks. Her sister was only three years older than her, and age too young to die.

"They say it is the cruelest way to die." Lenard had heard of the sickness. It would initially appear as a fever that would later darken and decay the skin turning it almost black towards the end.

Ariana nodded, wiping the tears off her face. "There is no cure for it. Death is certain."

"I hope your nieces are in fair condition. Such a grief does take a toll on the younger ones!" Lenard was sympathetic towards his wife's loss.

But only humanly sympathetic, he never loved Ariana now will he ever love her. "I'm sorry, my queen but my heart belongs to another," he told her on their wedding night. "I won't fail you as a king, but as a husband, you shall never have my love." And he was true to his words. He never once looked at Ariana with a lover's affection, he was simply a man performing his duties.

To Ariana, it was the biggest disappointment of her life. Her dreams of loving her new husband had shattered miserably, and for the past twenty years, she walked on the broken shards of the glass, feeling lonely and empty as her husband only saw her as an obligation, an accord, and a political treaty.

"I'm sure Eleanor must be satisfied," Ariana smirked. "Now that she has become the queen." Ariana set aside the letter and walked towards her goblet of wine. She took another sip from her glass and let it set on the table.

"What do you mean?" The king urgently questioned her.

Ariana sat back on her chair and look emptily at the burning candle in the corner of the room that was now overshadowed by the bright light of the sun pouring into the chambers. "My sister had changed since the death of Doran. She had grown melancholy post her son's death that she had neglected her daughters ever since. I wouldn't be surprised if Eleanor and Raya hated her in the end. After all my sister did fail miserably as a mother."

"I wouldn't be surprised of Helewyse's behavior. He was after all the first boy to be born in six generations of your family. His death must have disturbed your sister terribly." Lenard knew the history of Pyros and the six generations that were ruled by queens because Arana Schadow killed her seven brothers to become the first queen to rule Pyros. "Do you wish to visit your home?"

"I do," Ariana was thoughtful. "Eleanor is too young for this burden. I wish to impart some wisdom on her while I can, and there is her coronation too."

"Yes. You must also find her a groom, now that she is expected to produce an heir."

"I agree," Ariana knew that her husband wasn't well versed in the ways of the Pyrosi's, but in this matter, she had to agree with him. There was no denying that Eleanor has crossed her marriageable age, most girls were married by thirteen or fourteen and by fifteen had already suffered the pains of child labor. But she didn't blame Eleanor or Raya, it was her sister Helewyse's negligence that had led to such a situation, and Ariana must fix it, for the sake of her nieces.

"Since you are going there, there is another matter that requires the new queen's attention. No one can handle this delicate matter better than you," he pointed out, but Ariana wasn't sure if she liked the direction of their conversation. "I hope you remember the terms of the alliance between our kingdoms."

"As clear as it was yesterday," Ariana taunted him.

Lenard smirked. "I know how you feel about politics. But Krussia needs this alliance. Your mother and your sister preserved the treaty. I expect your niece Eleanor to do the same."

"And if she doesn't?" Ariana was skeptical of her niece's actions.

"Then let the Gods protect our son's reign from my half-siblings in the north," it was a fair warning from Lenard.

"What?" Ariana was shocked. She knew now that Lenard knew something that she didn't and she was almost willing to do whatever it took to secure her eldest son Crestian's rule.

"You know that there hasn't been peace between the north and south ever since my father died. This kingdom has seen more than twenty years of chaos, I don't know how many more it will see. But I know one thing, the last war I fought with my brothers was unfinished, and it is inevitable that the war must end. It's coming Ariana, sooner than you know and our son won't be able to face the wrath of my step-brother and my step-sister all by himself. He must find an alliance, he must have the support of Pyros or else the south will be dust and ash," Lenard was cautiously narrating his fears.

"How are you so certain?" Ariana was in disbelief.

Lenard didn't know how to answer to that. At first, he was convinced that it was his instinct telling him but the warning of his untimely death by the servant of Dionysia still resonated in his mind! He didn't want to believe her prophecy, but a part of him couldn't deny it. If he would die, then his son – Crestian, would rise. That's what she told him. And for Crestian to rise, he would have to face his enemies, destroy them and destroy the kingdom giving rise to a new one just like the servant promised.

"When I die, which may come to pass a lot sooner than expected, Crestian will be surrounded by more enemies than you can imagine! And the first one to attack him will be my half-sister Emelia," he said. She could see a surety in his face like he knew the future.

"The agreement will grow void if Emelia -" she began talking but was immediately shut my Lenard.

"Emelia doesn't care about that. The moment she sees us at a vulnerable point, she wouldn't fail to attack!" he exhaled, remembering the war that he almost lost.

Almost twenty-three years ago after the death of his father, he fought the first battle with his half-siblings for the throne of Krussia which was then a united kingdom. His father had a wife before he took Lenard's mother as one and the three children of the first wife laid claim to the throne instantly after the death of their father even though the act of succession promised Lenard the throne.

After several battles and many lives lost including his first wife Skylar, his siblings and he came to an agreement that they shall split the kingdom and the north went to his half-brother Hector who currently rules North Krussia.

"And your brother? He would stand and watch as his sister breaks the accord," Ariana was furious.

"My brother is sick. He has been that for many years, hiding in the winter castle. I don't think his people have even seen him in the past eight years, maybe more. If Emelia decides to wage war, he can't do much hiding behind those great castle walls. And there is the other matter," he grew distant. "The agreement is between Hector and I. When Crestian takes over, they must renew the treaty, and I strongly feel that Amelia would oppose to it, giving reason to war."

Now Ariana was afraid. Not for her husband's kingdom or its people but for her children. Emelia was a gruesome warrior during her age. Her physical skills in the battle may have aged with her, but her mind was still sharp, fully capable of orchestrating brilliant battle strategies that could wipe out kingdoms. And this was a reason why Hector still kept her counsel – there was no one like her when it came to the affairs of war. But of course, if her brother Deval had lived, he would have had the entire kingdom to himself.

"What do you want from me?" Ariana cut to chase. It was evident that Lenard wasn't reminding her of their son's fate just for amusement, there had to be an ulterior motive.

"Quite simple actually," Lenard knew that he had the situation under control. "You niece needs to continue her support towards my kingdom like her mother and her grandmother. This you must do because this is the only thing that will strengthen us!"

She knew now what was expected from her and the task that lay before her wasn't going to be easy. It would be like taming a lioness of Pyros for Eleanor was nothing less than reckless, stubborn and most of all selfish. Convincing her to continue the agreement would be difficult unless there was something in it for her.

"Then its settled. I am to leave for Pyros in two days!" Ariana agreed.

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